Preparations in Time
by Samisim
Summary: Tag to "Into the Black".  Helen has stepped through the time rift into 19th century London.


**Title: **Preparations in Time

**Author:** Samisim

**Rating:** K

**Status:** WIP (if I decide where to take it)

**Category:** Tag to "Into the Black"

**Summary:** Helen Magnus has come through the time rift to 19th century London.

**Disclaimer:** Sanctuary is not mine. No profit made, it's just for fun.

_**Author's Note:**_** I have no Beta so all mistakes are mine. Please let me know how I did. Also please give any suggestions on a possible next chapter. I guessed on where Helen came out of the rift. I am by no means familiar with London. This was mostly just fun to write, there is not much action really. Enjoy :)  
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Chapter 1

Helen Magnus's boots landed with a thud on the cobblestones that paved through an eerily familiar 19th century London. She felt hyper aware, the most notable of sensations was the tingling of her skin likely from traveling through the time rift. Helen heard a clock tolling in the distance, it was 8:00. It seemed like a remembered dream, hazy yet griping, this place that she once called home lifetimes ago stood before her. It was night and the air was damp around her. It was the same as Helen remembered; she was the one who had changed. Helen had adapted to society, sometimes not conforming completely; after all she did have standards to uphold. She had indeed morphed into something unrecognizable to a Helen from this time.

As Helen scanned her surroundings she noticed finely dressed ladies being escorted by fine gentlemen. She, unescorted and oddly clothed brought about strange looks from the finery, not to mention the oddly sleek gun she grasped in her now shaking hands. She had to find Adam Worth first and foremost, but she couldn't very well be detained because of something so silly as her appearance. She had to blend in and be unnoticed. She figured she would be here a while regardless if she found Worth now or later. If there was a possibility to return using the Calorum device, the colossal issue of loss of life and destruction needed to be addressed. Of course they would need a large enough power source to attempt to charge the device to send her back to her rightful time. How odd to think of it that way. This, by most accounts WAS her rightful place; she changed that with her injection of the source blood more than a century ago.

Helen moved quickly out of the view of prying eyes, into the shadows of the buildings nearby. She had to move and she had to think fast. This was just too surreal. She knew Worth couldn't be too far away, and it tore at her to no end. Helen pocketed her gun, quickly twirled her hair hastily on top of her head, and affixed it with a couple of hair pins she usually had on standby. She allowed herself a small reprieve by leaning up against a building wall, just long enough to collect herself. She wrapped her coat tight reveling in its slight warmth. Two deep breaths later and she was on the move down the darkened alley.

She was vaguely familiar with this area of London, Kensington Street. It was a newer affluent part of town. She wound her way through the back streets until she finally came to a more familiar place. Though she didn't know the day only the hour, she was certain the occupants of 78 Westbourne Park Road would not be at home. Calvin and Rowena Loughton traveled in all the right circles, but enjoyed dipping into the drink most nights on the edges of society. Helen spotted a cracked window; she figured it was left open for their cat. Chancing meeting the Helen of this era was a fear she didn't take lightly. It was unknown what the ramifications of such an occurrence would be, but the theories alone didn't sit well. Going to her own home to change was out of the question, so she decided a little B&E was in order. She pushed the window open and hefted herself inside. Helen concluded she was in a guest bedroom. It was dark, save for the dim moon light being cast in from the window, and the sliver of light that came in from the sparsely opened door. She heard no movement in the Loughton home. Helen could barely see, so waited for her eyes to adjust. She had been to their home before several times on Rowena's invitation. Her father encouraged such connections. Helen knew it was important to maintain one's self in society if only to a point. If she would have rejected it fully she wouldn't have had a chance at all to pursue her passions.

Eyes adjusted she crept to the wardrobe. She knew the lady of the house did not limit her wardrobe to just one room, it was far too extensive. Helen fingered through trying to find something that would suit her. After making her selection of a rich brown and cream dress, she riffled around for under things. She sighed; this was going to be painful. She found one of Rowena's many corsets. She quickly divested. Once her pants were off she put her knee length boots back on since there was no way she would fit into Rowena's petite ones. She began to done the strangling foundation; with much preamble she laced it as well as she could behind her back. She instantly straightened, her lungs screamed at her to loosen the binds. It was all coming back to her now. She was grateful to find the lesser of two bustles in the bottom of the wardrobe. Lord, how on earth did anyone manage such a thing alone? She struggled for several moments as she cursed the absurdity of it. Once it was on she slid her outer clothes on. Helen found a small leather bag, which was more like a large purse, and placed her clothing and gun inside. She briefly wished she could see her reflection a little better in the wardrobe mirror. She fussed with her hair replacing the fallen locks. Helen glanced to the window, the one she easily climbed in moments before with unrestricted clothing by 19th century standards.

"This is going to be fun," She whispered to herself.

She stood in place for a moment, closed the wardrobe, and tried to breathe evenly under the strain. She clutched the leather bag in her left hand.

"After all, I am a lady," Helen murmured as she turned away from the widow and proceeded to take her chances in the house beyond.


End file.
